Only the Strong
by Tourniquet
Summary: As Draco returns to his 7th year he is torments internally, can hermione help him out of the hell he is living? WARNING: Contains elements of self-injury


Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. All I own is the ideas in this story and a box of cookies.

Chapter 1

He drummed his fingertips upon the dark mahogany material of the desk top as he chewed softly on the tip of his quill and stared thoughtfully down at his homework. Over and over he worked the equation, twisting the numbers in his head and on the paper, but to no avail he was not coming up with the correct answer.

Draco Malfoy could not concentrate on his Arithmetic homework even if his life depended on it. His seventh and final year at Hogwarts was to start tomorrow and he still hadn't finished his bloody homework. 

His knuckles on his right hand were bruised and scratched. A pathetic attempt at physically attacking his father the previous night had resulting in the Crucios curse being placed on him, and then his father kicking the shit out of him. Now Draco wore black leather gloves to hide the bloodied hands. His arms and torso were in no better shape, a dark grey turtle neck of soft wool clung, paired with black slacks and a black cloak.

Music played from a Muggle stereo beside his bed. 
    
    _what makes you think that it'll all work out in the end._
    
    _afraid to feel bad. better off to try and pretend. I'm_
    
    _immortal, immune to all that is wrong. just keep on wishing._
    
    _crossing my fingers. so long. is this helping? i'm growing_
    
    _weaker each day. can't stop whining._
    
    _still afraid of what i might say or reactions, that control us one and all._
    
    _Why don't you think about that?_
    
    _so now i'm bleeding on myself yes once again._
    
    _seems i trusted another deceitful friend. my fault. should've known the deal._
    
    _keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, for real._
    
    _seems easy, but nothing could be so hard. trying to guess life's_
    
    _dealing. what's the next card? I'm surely folding._
    
    _i don't like this hand at all._
    
    _It's mine, it's pure and as decent as i can make myself._
    
    _Inside, we all know, only the strong survive._
    
    _Keep those eyes wide open, here comes a blind side._
    
    _maybe things happen for a reason and wherein lies the answer._
    
    _to overcome the grieving of life's unruly lessons. i'm handed_
    
    _in succession. it builds my pain which makes me strong._
    
    _It's mine, it's pure and as decent as i can make myself._
    
    _Inside, we all know, only the strong survive._

Draco smirked at the stereo as the annoying voice that came out of it proclaimed the song was called 'Only the Strong'. His fist clenched the quill tighter and tighter, the wood bending too far and bursting in half. Taking deep breaths he glanced at his door and quickly stashed the Muggle stereo under his bed, before grabbing his wand and muttering a simple spell to play loud music throughout the room.

His instincts had been right when the crack in the door became wide and Narcissa Malfoy made her way into his room, stopping behind Draco and placing a hand on his shoulder. He winced from the pain but did not let it show, instead waving his wand causing the music to instantaneously quiet.

"Draco, _darling_," came the smooth measured words from his mother. He could imagine her face, the picture of sympathy and kindness. If Draco could, he would nominate his mother for the Annual Astonishing Acting Awards, her drama skills were incredible. He tuned her out and stared at the blank page in front of him, the perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder itched. He craved to bat it off and scream in her face, but he knew he would get an even worse lashing than the one of the night before.

She made her way into her thoughts with a shout "Draco!"

He turned and stared up at her with contempt. "Yes, _mother?_" he drawled, crossing his arms across his chest.

Her sugary smile instantly turned into a sneer, her hands landing on her slim hips. "You know perfectly well that none of that… _nonsense_," she spat out of perfectly made up lips, "would have happened if you would just do what your father says. How dare you disrespect him and our family by refusing him?" Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed at him as she continued. "You were born to be a Death Eater Draco. If you do not accept your destiny, you will leave us with no choice."

Chapter Two 

The first day of the Year started off with a tumble of events. Draco's owl 'Lancelot' was biting his ear trying to wake him up as he had an envelope tied to his leg and in the process Draco took a tumble off his bed, landing on his butt on the cold hardwood floor.

"_Hold on_ Lance," he mumbled as struggled to pull the shiny black blanket from his legs that kept him trapped. Quickly he untied the strings from Lance's leg and pulled a treat from his bedside table throwing it out the window and smirking as the grey owl took off out after it.

As Draco started up his shower, turning the hot water on full and waited for the bathroom to fill with steam, he pulled the letter from his pocket and cocked an eyebrow questioningly. Why would Hogwarts be sending him a letter on the first day of the term when the news could be told to him once he arrived at school?

Quickly he skimmed the letter and gave out a chuckle.

Greetings Mr. Malfoy,

You are most likely  wondering why this letter is upon you on this  brilliant day of September 1st, but we have fantastic news that could not wait. This years male Head of House, Ravenclaw Nathaniel  Benzoate has transferred to Beauxbatons for his final year of schooling and we at Hogwarts School of Magic would like to extend the welcome to you for his position as Head Boy. Please meet with myself, Professor Dumbledore an hour early to discuss the probability of you accepting this position.

Sincerely, **P**rofessor **D**umbledore__

Draco almost started giggling at the contents of the letter. If only his father could see this now. Him, a potential Death Eater being asked to be Head Boy. Draco shook his head in disbelief, standing up to smear away the fog on the mirror. He stared at his reflection, and was amazed at what he saw there. If it was possible, he had gotten only paler over the summer, if one gazed close they could see the blue veins that fingered out near his temples. His hair had gotten impossible long and now hung in long bangs in front of his eyes, the once shiny color that could be compared to his mother's golden curls had faded to a dull silvery blonde, almost white, sometimes grey. He rarely took the time to do his hair anymore as it curled along his neck, and he refused to let one of his mother's beauticians take a wand to it. He actually liked hiding behind his hair at times. His eyes were the only things that remained the same on him. Dark grey fringed with blonde eyelashes, now stood out against his ghostly skin and matched the bluish bags that sunk underneath his eyes.

Biting his lips, Draco managed to get some color into them, and after and a few moments of pinching his cheeks the blood moved into them, making his look slightly alive.

"Get it together", he spat at his reflection and stripped off his pajama bottoms, stepping into the scalding water.

Chapter 3 

Draco stared up at the stone castle, the moon was the only light in the dark night sky. He blinked as he entered the school, his pupils adjusting to the brightness of the candles and drawing his hood to cast some of it off him. Down the halls he strode, his footsteps echoing a banging sound off the quiet walls. The school was eerily empty as only the teachers were there thus far and who knows where. He traced the familiar path to Dumbledore's office, having been there the previous year for a prank he had played on Potter. Up the swindling staircase, jumping the 2nd last trick stair, he found the familiar gargoyle statue at the end of the hallway.

He paused to recollect what the Headmaster's current favorite flavor was and then grinned as he spouted, "Strawberry-kiwi". The statue began spinning and Draco took a hop on, enjoying the ride to the top.

"Welcome Mr. Malfoy, we've been expecting you." Came the kind voice, Draco soon matched to the old man with the long white beard that was overdue for a trimming. He cocked an eyebrow at the 'we'? and instantly wrinkled his slightly pointed nose when he spotted Hermione Granger petting Phoenix, Dumbledore's bird.

Hermione instantly turned around at the Professor's word's, her jaw dropping at Draco's appearance before quickly collecting herself and slightly frowning.

"What is the Mu- _she_ doing here?" Draco caught himself in time, sneering at Hermione with distaste.

"Draco, have a seat. We are here to discuss your position as Head Boy, and as Head Girl…" Hermione shot Draco a look of triumph, "Hermione has just as much input as you do."

A heavy feeling settled in Draco's stomach, the feeling you got when you knew things were hopeless, a sort of mixture of bile and whiskey. He sat down opposite of the Headmaster and finally pulled off his hood, eyeing the headmaster for a reaction. Dumbledore turned to Hermione and stroked his massive white beard, "Your thoughts on this matter with regards to Mr. Malfoy filling the Head Boy position,  Ms. Granger?" he asked softly.

"Well." She began, turning to Draco. She paused, her angry words lost in her mouth at what she saw. The boy looked even worse with his whole face revealed.

"What?" Draco spat, obviously uncomfortable with being stared at.

She coughed uncomfortably. "Well Professor," she began with a sigh, "Obviously Malfoy and I have not gotten along well…ever. For the past six years he has done everything in his power to make my stay here at Hogwarts miserable, to bully my friends, and to insult me based on my heritage." Dumbledore nodded his head slowly, Draco knew his hopes were about none. 

"…but Professor." Draco's head sprang up, and he stared at Hermione shocked. Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, "He does have his moments. Other than myself," Hermione said with a smirk, "Draco is at the top of our class with a 97% average as compared to my 98%. He has been a prefect for Slytherin since his 5th year, he is a cunning, a fantastic leader and protects those in his house." Hermione bit her lip and then seemed to come to a decision. "I will support him as Head Boy."

A quick take of breath hit Draco, but he was quick to conceal his surprise, turning to Dumbledore with a solemn face to await his fate.

Dumbledore eyed the pair and then smiled, a twinkle in his eye.

"Your first duty as Head Boy and Girl is to head down to the Great Hall and welcome this year's students along with myself and the rest of the staff after first making a round around the school to make sure all is well."

Draco's jaw dropped. He was now Head Boy, the decision was final. Things seemed like they were going too fast. Granger was looking at him again, her eyes unreadable. All he wanted right now was to be alone in his room, the room charmed to play some _Linkin Park_, a fantastic Muggle band he had stumbled upon this summer.

The pair made their way through the hallways, neither speaking, just walking with quick steps to get  the job done as quick as possible, and to the Great Hall. It would be a miracle if the two of them made it all the way without an argument, and yet both of them remained quiet, as if with their newly-found positions had come an contract in which they wouldn't be vicious to each other, not nice, just not outwardly fierce.

They stopped outside the Great Hall an hour later; Hermione took a swift glance up at Draco who seemed to now tower over her, something new she noticed. He looked actually 'afraid'? She shook her head 'no'. Draco Malfoy was never afraid, and if he was, he sure had a good way of hiding it in the last six years.  She couldn't really tell, but when he looked at down at her and caught her looking at him, he demanded, "What!?"

 "Nothing," she mumbled looking away

Chapter 4

"…and one last note. Our first year should take notice that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to _all_ pupils." Professor Dumbledore, paused winking at Harry and Ron from the head table. He looked over the crowd of students, the new ones eager with anticipation of the year to come, the older ones just as excited to be back, and lifted his arms. "Let the feast begin!"

The empty plates before the students filled with food, and they began stuffing their faces, hungry from the trip. Ron gazed at the seat beside Harry which was empty, it was usually occupied by Hermione. "Dwi-Ha-mi-o-hee-hay-swen-eel-he-bere?" Ron asked Harry through a mouth full of mashed potatoes.

Harry grimaced, and then began laughing. "Try swallowing." 

His friend grabbed his glass of pumpkin jice and took a big drink, swallowing.  "I said: Did Hermione say when she'll be here?" Ron repeated, looking at the empty seat again. "I thought she'd be here by now, her 'Head Girl' duties must be taking a while.

Harry shrugged, and poked at the peas on his plate. "I dunno. She didn't say too much in her last letter, 'cept that Dumbledore had wrote her telling her that she had to come to the school early for some emergency meeting." He shook his head. "It's gonna be weird if things are like this all year, and she's never around."

Ron agreed glumly. "Yeah."

They finished the rest of their meal relatively quickly, and like usual, the dishes disappeared to be cleaned by the house elves below. Harry looked up as Professor Dumbledore arose again, a content smile on his face. "MMmm…what a treat that was! I have one more thing to announcement before you are sent off for the night," he clasped his hands in front of his magnificent blue robe. "This year's perfects have been introduced, but we have yet to bring out of Head Boy and Girl for this year." The hall broke out into discussion as everyone speculated who was missing. 

They weren't introduced. Instead, Hermione and Draco made their way across the stage and waited for everyone to shut their mouths.

"Well…another year is about to start," Hermione began once the Hall was quiet. "I am anxious as the rest of you to get back to the common rooms and have some fun before classes start tomorrow, but first just a few words. I am this year's Head Girl, Hermione Granger for all of you that are new or unfamiliar, I reside in the Gryffindor house and I here for anyone of you if you need help." Hermione let out a breath, and then paused looking at Draco. He looked rather...grey, so she continued, "…and this is Draco Malfoy, this year's Head Boy from Slytherin." 

"Welcome, welcome." Dumbledore smiled and then gave a wave that meant that everyone could go. "Have a fantastic year!" He resumed his seat and himself and Professor McGonagall continued their conversation on the present school year.

Hermione waited on the stage, watching the many students in the hall following various Perfects to their dormitories. They were almost like her little children now, she was responsible for them. She turned to Draco, but found he had disappeared with the crowd. 

Draco made his way through the throng of students who animatedly chatted about their summers, and the upcoming year, not making any effort to fit in with any of them. His head was pounding, like a sledgehammer, he desperately needed to be alone, and yet he knew he should stick around and help out. Instead he had run off, first chance Granger had turned her back, and made his way towards the Slytherin common room.

"Mr. Malfoy." A voice behind him, stopped him in his tracked. It was Professor McGonagall, and behind was Granger. They both looked concerned, "You and Ms. Granger have your own private rooms this year." She said. Draco looked once more at the direction of the Slytherin common rooms, and then followed them dejectedly.

Hermione rearranged her books in her arms. "Honestly, Malfoy, if you hadn't of run off after supper-"

"Shove off Granger." He spat quietly, so Professor McGonagall didn't hear. 

They stopped in front a pair of knights who held axes that crossed, and seemed to be blocking a path, but there was no door or anything behind them, or so they thought. Professor McGonagall, turned with a rare smile at the pair. "Deviate." 

The two suits of armor pulled back their axes in synchronization and a door appeared before them.

"Welcome to your private bedrooms." McGonagall announced. They followed her into a common room of some sorts, decorated warmly in burgundy and tan. The walls were covered mostly with bookcases and Draco could see Hermione eyes grow wide with excitement. A fireplace crackled warmly along a wall, along with a few worn couches that sat in front of them, their arms worn away in places, a hand made quilt laid upon one. There were three doors, the first was Draco's bedroom, the middle the bathroom they would share and finally Hermione's bedroom. On opposing walls hung two paintings. They were both of the same exact thing, a scene of some sort in the world, it looked like a forest, except in one painting it was daylight and it was painted very cheerfully. The other was painted to looked like night time in blues and blacks and looked very depressing. Professor McGonagall explained that the dark painting led to the Slytherin common room, and the cheerful one to the Gryffindor common room, and Hermione had to hide to a chuckle at how perfect they were as she glanced at Draco who was frowning at everything around him.

McGonagall left after that, only after reminding them that there was a meeting tomorrow night for them and the perfects after supper. Draco gazed around the unfamiliar room, Hermione had already settled upon a couch, deeply engrossed in a book she had found on one of the shelves. He didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. Instead he wandered into his room, and smiled upon inspection. It was almost a duplicate of his old Slytherin room. Dark mahogany furniture, black, silk bed sheets, and only one window. At the moment, the sun was streaming into his room, blinding him, but he soon fixed the problem by conjuring up some black curtains to hide his room from any outside light or eyes. His room was going to be his sanctuary for the next nine months, he had to make it bearable. Lighting the small lamp beside his bed, he checked outside his room, Hermione was still reading, good. He locked his door with a spell and then plopped down on his bed and laid back on his hands, staring at the ceiling trying to fight to anger, the sadness, the monsters that were rising in him. He knew he wasn't going to fight them tonight and bent over to pull out the knife he kept in his boots. Quickly he rose and put on the music, the music that put him in his own world and drove any other feelings out so he could do what he needed to. 

He sat down at his desk, clearing the paper the house-elves had left there and unrolled the sleeve on his left arm, staring at the white pale flesh there. His fingers clenched the blade in his right arm, similar to his jaw. He didn't know how long it took, but soon the underside of his forearm was not a pale smooth creamy white, but a stream of pink, a battlefield of cuts and tissue gaping. 

A knock at his door, interrupted his process and made him drop the knife. "Draco?" Hermione hollered over his music. He didn't answer. Instead, he just listened to the beat of the bass and stared at the red as it dripped on his desk. "Draco!" came the voice again. He knew she wouldn't leave until he responded and paused the music, the silence that followed rather eerie. Grabbing a shirt he wrapped his arm, and pulled the door open exactly three inches. "What?" he demanded, his eyes cold, his voice furious.

Hermione bit her lip in surprise. "I was just wondering if you could turn down your music, I'm going to bed." She said cautiously.

Draco rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut. Moments later the music returned, even louder if possible. She sighed in frustration and took off for her bedroom. 

Head Hea


End file.
